


Sky-Gazing

by tabulaxrasa



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Scully POV, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-18
Updated: 2000-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 13:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabulaxrasa/pseuds/tabulaxrasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UFO-hunters don't sky-gaze.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sky-Gazing

**Author's Note:**

> I would assume it takes place after Millennium, and before all things, but you can put it when ever you want. Much later note: FTR, this is the first thing I ever wrote.

TITLE: Sky-Gazing

AUTHOR: Tabula Rasa  
RATING: G  
CATEGORIES: S V A UST  
SPOILERS:I don't think there are any.

SUMMARY: UFO-hunters don't sky-gaze.

DISCLAIMERS: What do you mean they're not real?

*X*

I watch the sky bruise from red to violet to black through the car window. The land is flat, nothing to block my view. There is only land and sky before me.

The road cuts through the vegetation, although "vegetation" is really much too green a word to describe the plants, sometimes crops, sometimes wild grasses, that pass by under the ever-darkening sky.

The car rocks me in a steady predictable motion, and I nod off for a few minutes. When I awaken, it is fully dark. I ask Mulder if he wants me to drive and he says no. Steady, predictable motion. I sleep again.

Mulder wakes me like he always does, a gentle touch on my cheek. I wake like I always do, with a start and a panicked glance around, until I see him and relax. I wish I didn't do that. It might help if he left his hand on my face, but I try not to think like that.

He gets out of the car, and comes around to my side. He opens my door. I unbuckle my seat belt and get out. I realize we're not there, wherever "there" is supposed to be tonight.

I don't want to question him, not tonight. I want him to just lead and I'll follow. But he expects me to question, to challenge. So I sigh, but not for the reason he thinks. "Mulder, where are we? What are you doing?" I speak softly, pleading. Tell me. Or not. Or kiss me.

We are pulled off on the side of the road. He has turned the car and the lights off, and I can't see his face. The plants behind him, the un-vegetation, consists of wild grasses. They look soft but I know better.

He looks down, and says quietly "I, um, Scully--there's a meteor shower tonight, and I thought we could watch some."

He expects to be rebuffed. I'm supposed to complain, whine, point out we have somewhere to be. But, God help me, I don't know where we're supposed to be. I don't even know where we are. And I'm tired. I'm so tired. I want to curl up into a ball and cry, large hot tears, for no reason. I want him to take care of me. I don't want to refuse him anything. I just want to say yes.

I look up at the not-empty sky. It's been a long time since I've seen this many stars. The sky is not a colorless expanse of not-dark-enough. The sky here is full, not just not-empty. And it is beautiful. I can almost feel those tears I long for but live in fear of pricking at the bottom of my eyes.

Mulder shifts next to me. He seems to think that I am capable of forgetting he is near me. Or forgetting him ever.

"Yes" I whisper.

He is surprised, but pleased, like an animal who has been homeless and mistreated and unexpectedly receives a pat on the head.

I want to ask him if he thinks he is in love with me. I want to ask him why.

Instead, we turn and walk through the field. He leads, I follow. We don't go too far. He takes off his trench coat, and lays it down, patting the un vegetation down. He lies down next to it, which means it is for me. I think. It's hard to see.

I lay down so that our heads are next to each other. We look up. Visions flash through my head, of Mulder turning his head to watch me. I can feel his breath on my ear, we're so close. His breath moves the stray strands of hair on the side of my face. He turns on to his side, facing me, watching me watch the sky.

But we both remain on our backs, face up. Maybe he watches me out of the corner of his eye. He has very good peripheral vision. So do I. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, sometimes.

The full sky stretches out above us for forever. I pick out familiar constellations, as I do whenever I happen to look up and there are stars.

"You know," Mulder says "I don't look up enough." His voice is low and I wasn't startled at the sound. I was thinking the same thing. It only seems to be incongruous. UFO-hunters don't look up.

"I know what you mean" I murmur, surprising myself. "Neither do I."

But sometimes, like tonight, all is forgotten. Nothing can be seen of the land, all that exists is the stars...and maybe your partner, breathing next to you. And the sky, you realize, is devastatingly beautiful.

We are silent then, because silence is the best way to look for meteors. I hear our breathing, and the beating of my heart, and maybe the beating of his. A very soft breeze dances across my face, stirring only the lightest hairs. I hope we never have to move.

"There!" Mulder says suddenly, pointing, delighted. Of course, by the time my eyes follow his lead, it is too late.

But then I see a thin streak of white. "There!" I cry, pointing.

"I saw it" Mulder breathed, with awe.

There are more. A large one, which streaks thickly across the sky. We gasp with one breath.

It gets cold. I start to shiver, but try to hide it. Mulder notices anyway. "Maybe we should go." He suggests softly.

I don't want to. I could stay here forever. But it must be late, and the logical part of my brain is waking up. "Okay," I say reluctantly. He stands up, I sit up. I can feel his hands reaching for me, and I reach for him. Our hands collide in the dark. His are warm; mine, I think are cold, because he holds them tightly, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of my hands. He pulls me up. I stumble into him, a little.

He doesn't let go. I look up, into where his eyes are, hidden by the darkness. It's safe now.

_Why are you in love with me?_ I think at him.

He lets go of my right hand, and reaches down to retrieve his coat. He still holds my other hand, though. I squeeze it tightly and close my eyes as he leads me back to the car. Or he leads me wherever he wants, because I'm not looking.

But we end up back at the car, like I knew we would. He lets me go then, and walks around to the driver's side. I remember to ask him if he wants me to drive. He says no, that's okay. I should sleep.

When we get in the car, it's chilly. He throws his coat in the back seat anyway.

The car starts up and we pull away. I lean my head on the cold window and tilt my head up, to watch the stars, the only things that do not speed us by.

I will not tell him this, but I like long car rides. So peaceful, comfortable, familiar. If he's there. By myself I get impatient, and I haven't had enough practice with anyone else, except for the few times with other agents, and I hated that. I like it when it's just us.

This is how we exist. In blue Ford Tauruses, though never the same one. There is no where else I would rather be. With the steady, predictable motion, I fall asleep again.

I wake up briefly, at the top of a hill. Below us spread the lights of a small city, a pathetic, vain--in both senses of the word--attempt to rival what stretches out naturally above us. But there are already less natural lights as we descend to the man-made hazy glow.

I hear a siren: high, empty screaming in the night. I close my eyes. I am afraid that someday...someday, all I will hear will be the urgent, ineffectual wailing of sirens.

I look out the window again for a moment, up. It is already more not-empty than full, and below it is too crowded. I shut my eyes again.

I wake up when my door is opened, and Mulder reaches across to unbuckle my seat belt. I wonder why he didn't touch my cheek. I can't think anything at all when he slides one arm under my knees, and one arm around my shoulders, and carefully, as if he is handling something that wants to break, he picks me up. He stands up, and carries me to my room. It is, somehow, still very dark, and my eyes strain against the blackness. I finally put my arms around his neck, and close my eyes.

He nudges the door open with his foot. He lays me on the bed. Then he stands and moves away. I sigh. Once again, I don't ask him why he is in love with me. I was hoping his answer would clarify my own.

He moves around the room, checking that we're alone because he left the door unlocked when he went to get me.  
Then he unlocks the connecting door for me. He comes back to the bed, and tugs the cover up from the other side, and lays them over me. He hesitates, and gently touches my hair. Then he leaves, shutting the door softly.

I wait, and he soon comes back in through the connecting door, and does all the locks on my door. That isn't necessary, I think at him. I was going to get up.

But he goes back into his room and shuts my door between our rooms. His he will leave open just a bit.

So I don't get up. I close my eyes. I might even cry.  
*X*


End file.
